


Stage Lights

by CasualCosplay



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Acting, Dehydration, Fainting, Gay, High School, Lightheaded, M/M, Musical, Theater - Freeform, Whump, dizzy - Freeform, lgbtq+, tech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualCosplay/pseuds/CasualCosplay
Summary: The school musical has just finished. Enjolras, as usual, has given a stunning performance as lead, and Stage Manager Grantaire, as usual, is completely smitten. When Enjolras suddenly gets lightheaded it falls suddenly on Grantaire to help.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Kudos: 37





	Stage Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this bitch forever ago. I was gonna rewrite it, but I got lazy and didn't, so here have the old, sad, plotless version.

Grantaire watched Enjolras finish the number from the wings. The stage lights glinted off the gold of his hair, worn long and pulled back for the role. The stage lights didn’t give him a particularly flattering look from this angle, but Grantaire didn’t notice. On the final, echoing note, Enjolras dropped to his knee, head bowed, the picture of perfect anguish.

“Blackout,” Grantaire whispered in his headset, and the stage went black. The audience burst into raucous applause. Enjolras rose in the dark, jogging off the stage.

“Lights up,” said Grantaire. The stage was once again flooded with white light. The chorus members filed onto the stage, meeting in the center to take hands and bow as the applause built again. They shuffled to the sides of the stage making way for the supporting characters, Eponine and Courfeyrac, followed by Combeferre and Joly, and then Marius and Cosette. The applause followed the bowing in a consistent ebb and flow. Finally Enjolras pushed passed the wings, a humble smile playing on his lips, perfect and pure. He clasped his hands together, and dropped them to the floor, bowing as the audience reached a crescendo, and rose again, opening his arms to bring the rest of the cast to him. They gathered in a line as the front of the stage, clasping hands, grinning wildly. Enjolras led them all, raising his arms, and pulling them into a final bow.

“Blackout,” Grantaire said, breathless. There was some endless magic about ending a performance. Grantaire couldn’t describe it, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. The actors-- all his friends-- flowed back through the wings as the applause died gently. Grantaire held up his hand to high-five them all as they streamed past, congratulating each other in fervent whispers.

Enjolras came back through the curtains last, panting slightly. He has a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. Not that Grantaire was surprised by that. Enjolras spent most of the show onstage, beneath the lights. Grantaire could never have done that. Aside from the fact that he was a rubbish actor, his stage fright was so bad, that last time he’d been in front of an audience-- eighth grade, the school play, written by Enjolras, of course-- he’d had one line, and he’d run off the stage and puked on Cindy Williams’ shoes. Suffice to say, he’d stuck to the technical side of theater ever since.

He pulled the mic away from his face, so Jehan wouldn’t have a chance to tease him. Enjolras high-fived him wearily, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Great job, Enjolras.” Enjolras wet his lips with his tongue, swallowing harshly.

“Thanks, ‘Taire.”

Grantaire’s breath caught in his throat. He supposed Enjolras had every reason to know his name. It wasn’t like they had never talked before, infact, they’d worked quite closely over the course of the last show, but Enjolras was, well, Enjolras, and Grantaire couldn’t remember Enjolras ever saying his name. Probably because he was so preoccupied by the fact that he was talking to Enjolras.

“The show would never get off the ground without you and your team.”

Grantaire had to force the next words out of his mouth. “Thanks,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too broken. This was why he had moved the mic. Jehan didn’t need to listen to him blubber like a fish because Enjolras paid him a compliment. And Grantaire didn’t need to endure the torment from him afterward. Enjolras patted Grantaire on the shoulder as he walked up the stairs to the dressing room. Grantaire was glad it was dark because his face had gone the color of the grand curtain, but he smiled as he watched Enjolras leave.

At the top of the stairs, Enjolras grabbed the railing, falling, his knee cracking against the edge of the step.

“Enjolras?” Grantaire darted up the stairs. Enjolras pushed himself back up slowly by the railing, pressing his palm to his brow. He gripped the railing hard enough to make the tendons of his hand bulge.

“Just got lightheaded…” Enjolras murmured.

Grantaire slipped his arm around Enjolras instinctively. Enjolras released the railing. Goosebumps erupted over Grantaire’s arms. Enjolras was leaning on him. Grantaire pulled a chair from beside the door of the girls’ dressing room, and lowered Enjolras into it.

“Put your head between your knees. Can I get you anything? Water?”

“Water,” said Enjolras. Grantaire motioned at a techie in black rushing by.

Grantaire snagged his water bottle off the stage manager’s booth. “Can you fill up this water bottle please?” The techie caught sight of Enjolras slumped forward in the chair, nodded and started running in the other direction. They were quickly gathering an audience. Grantaire shooed them all away.

“He’s fine; go get changed.” One of the benefits of being stage-manager was that he was at the top of the food chain, below no one except the director. The stragglers disappeared quickly.

Minutes later, the techie returned with Grantaire’s water bottle. Grantaire handed it to Enjolras. “How much water have you had tonight?” 

Enjolras glanced at Grantaire, smiling guiltily. “I haven’t had much time.”

“Probably dehydrated then. No wonder, under those lights.”

Enjolras laughed softly, sipping at Grantaire’s water bottle.

“Oi, ‘Taire.” Grantaire jumped when Jehan’s voice snapped through the telex headset. “Are you still there, or are you too caught up ogling Enjolras’ ass.”

Grantaire pulled the mic back to his lips. “Yeah, sorry, Jehan, I’m here.” Enjolras chuckled at him and Grantaire felt his face flush, thanking every divine entity he could think of that Enjolras couldn’t hear what Jehan actually said.

“I’ve only been trying to get your attention for the last two minutes.”

“Erm. Yeah, sorry. What is it?”

“Just wanted to know if we’ve gotten the reservation for tonight?”

“I had Bahorel call,”

“Good. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Right. Oh, actually, could you find Johnson, as well?”

“Yeah, what for?”

“Erm,” Grantaire glanced back at Enjolras talking animatedly with the techie who had brought the water. He tipped the water back into his mouth, smiling at whatever the kid had said. Locks of his golden hair were falling free of his ponytail. He flicked one elegantly away from his face with a toss of his head. Grantaire shook himself. “Erm, Enjolras felt lightheaded. He’s sitting down now, and I think he’s doing better, but I thought I should get Johnson’s help.”

“You’re with Enjolras now?” Jehan said, the glee in his voice unmistakable. Jehan would be taking the mickey out of him for weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated!
> 
> \-- Casual Cosplay <3


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